


Objection

by TheGirlOfIronAndBlood



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Basically they do lawyer shit, M/M, Mock Trial AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 00:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlOfIronAndBlood/pseuds/TheGirlOfIronAndBlood
Summary: they're both in a mock trial team, and mike is (unrequitedly) in love with Harvey. all is going well when a sudden threat to Harvey's potential law career sends mike into a dilemma. he does what needs to be done and sacrifices the reputation of the team, but when he is called to the stands, a genius twist and a painful confession saves the team, his place on it, and most importantly, his relationship with harveyalso known as the "I tried to make a case/real life parallel fit but its so needlessly confusing"(re-editted first chapter because oh boy did i self indulge too much the first time round)





	Objection

**Author's Note:**

> All mock trial knowledge is courtesy of the internet please do not use this as a guide it will disappoint  
> (Please pretend the court scenes are witty and good I am no debater and I lack the skills to make these baby lawyers sound cool)

“All rise!”

Donna’s clear voice rang throughout the room, silencing some of the younger recruits at the back of the room who clearly lacked self preservation skills. They hurriedly patted at their ill-fitted pants, shrugging their stiff suit jackets into place. This was a moment they had waited for, had trained for for years, and somehow it didn’t feel half as impressive as they’d thought it would. 

Mike turned to glance at the new first-years. He distinctly remembers his first MOOT general meeting, it was a mock trial demonstration, just like this year’s, and the year before that, and the past twenty years before that. At Pearson-Hardman College, tradition was highly valued, which explained how half the classrooms still did not had air-conditioning, or how morning assemblies were still conducted daily, or the peculiar campus arrangements, where in the school was separated into two main buildings ten minutes apart. 

He stills remembers his unofficial first day of school, before he had gotten the official documents settled, during the summer holidays. Harvey had thrown him one of his old suits, told him to “act like me”, which to Mike really just meant as if there was a stick up his arse, and waltzed in through the front gate with a smooth lie about “misplaced visitor IDs” and “exchange student from Brighton”.

He’d gotten the quick history lesson from Harvey on the car ride there: Pearson-Hardman was formed nearly fifty years ago by a group of rich lawyers who wanted to send their children to the fanciest school possible, and when no school fit their requirements, they started one instead. Fast forward to twenty years ago, Jessica Pearson and Daniel Hardman took over the school from the last three heads, and established a new system. Former corporate lawyer Jessica Pearson took the old campus, a majestic sprawl of gardens and fields and red brick walkways, and turned it into a hotbed for up and coming lawyers, even converting a lecture hall into a proper court. Whereas former international lawyer Daniel Hardman built a new campus, all glass and steel, ten minutes away from the old campus, housing one of the world’s best MUN teams. Truth be told, Pearson Hardman was one school only in name, for students from the two campuses had all classes and extracurriculars on their own grounds, only meeting for certain annual events. 

A quick jab to his shoulder brought his train of thought back to the meeting. He winced, not even bothering to look over at who the culprit was. He knew that jab from the countless of trials and meetings he’d attended with the man in question. 

“Welcome, returning students and new students alike, to a new term at Pearson-Hardman college. You are the cherry-picked individuals who have been chosen to represent the school in the various mock trial tournaments held across the globe this year. First, we’d like some of our core members to show you the level of skill we expect you to demonstrate and master, now let me hand over the time to our committee before moving onto tournament details and household matters.”

As the committee stood up from the front row and proceeded into the stands, one of the second years, Zoe Lawford herded a group of second year boys away as she moved up into the small cluster of first year girls in the witness stand. 

“I’m Zoe, and you’re going to be calling me your saviour in just a bit, because I’m here to tell you all the hot goss about our core committee.” A blonde three rows back feigned puking at the words “hot goss”, but the rest of the first years leaned in, desperate to hoard any possible information that they could use about the school’s mock trial committee to their advantage. 

“The prosecutor over there, the one with the dark roots, her name is Monica Eton and she’s a snake. Rumour is that she slept with Hardman, but regardless of whether she’s done that, everyone knows she tells the losers over at the new campus about what we’re up to.” 

“Then why is she still on the core team?” 

“You’ll see” Zoe replied with a smirk before placing her hand to her lips, making a sealing motion. 

“Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury: the defendant has been charged with the crime of grand theft auto and breaking and entering. The evidence will show that a 2004 Corvette was stolen on the night of February 8th. The very next day the defendant was arrested driving the car in question. And the defendant’s fingerprints were found on the plaintiff’s garage door, so unless you’re suggesting that the the Corvette drove itself out of the garage, planting the defendant’s fingerprints on the way, the evidence proves that the defendant is guilty as charged.” As Monica sat down, the first years’ jaws dropped to the ground. 

“Yeah. See what I mean. Can’t afford to kick a tank off the team just because it occasionally runs over the grass,” Zoe looked so very serious as her proteges nodded along.

As the trial went on, a dedicated Zoe continued to point out the moneymakers of the Pearson campus. 

“That, my children, is Rachel Zane, and she’s a sight to behold. Her father is an alumni, Robert Zane, I’m sure you’ve heard of him, but you didn’t hear it from me, kay? Legal talent runs in the family.”

“Donna. She knows everything and when I mean everything I do mean anything: the girl could get a job as a police detective if the law career doesn’t work out,”

“Jenny Griffith, started as a drama student at another college, transferred over after her boyfriend and her best friend came here, speaking of her best friend-”

“The shorter lawyer on the defense is Mike Ross, golden boy, just a second year like me but he’s weaseled his way into the core. I’ll begrudgingly admit that he’s good, but if you think he got there by talent alone you’ll be laughed out of the school before you know it,”

“Then how did he get in?” An eager first year with round frame glasses pipped up, and Zoe did the come hither sign again, signalling the girls to huddle around her. 

“There’s a pool going on, betting on who he slept with to get on the comm, most money’s on Zane, there’s some on Donna, the redhead, although I really doubt that's a thing. There’s even a bit on Pearson, I heard.” Zoe whispered. The girls gasped, as if on cue, and it made Zoe’s heart swell a bit in pride. She felt like a veteran, guiding her ducklings through the ups and downs of the first year.

The girl with the round frame glasses raised her hand meekly, “Zoe, so who did you bet on?”

“A gambler never tells,” Zoe smiled smugly, crossing her arms. 

“She bet on Specter,” The blond who’d cringed before moved down the rows to sit behind Zoe amongst the first years. “And she loves telling everyone that she’s going to win the bet.”

“None of you stay behind in the prep room long enough to see how they are after a couple of drinks,” Zoe returned with a statement of her own, before turning back to the demonstration. 

“Now kids, time to point out the staples, your run of the mill boring good MOOTers, all fourth years, all positively boring. Watson, Klyman, Gallo, Goldberg and Porter,” Zoe pointed at the five brown-haired boys in the stands. “They all look the same to me, but it doesn’t matter, they’re good but they’re not in charge of the politics in this place. That girl over there is Missy Dietler, she’s only here to increase the variation in gender, but honestly, she’s pretty average.” 

“Saving the best of the last I’ll assume,” the blond smirked as the first chair defense lawyer walked out from behind the stands, his hands casually in his pockets and a confident smirk on his face. This was his home court, and he knew it. 

Zoe blushed, before coughing to regain the attention of the first years. Most of them had started to drift off, regaining interest in the demonstration. There was a certain air about him that made the courtroom noise die down to a whisper as everyone sat in anticipation of what he was about to say. 

Zoe wasn't going to let the silence stop her, she had to pretend to be cool about this. “Now, I’m sure all of you have heard of him, but let me put a face to the name- this, is Harvey Specter, the first second year, and the first third year chair of the MOOT team, and our crown jewel. Don’t even try to date him, he’s so emotionally stunted the closest he’s ever gotten to saying to a girl is “I care about you”, which got Scottie so mad she ran off to Darby, so please try to keep your hands off the merchandise.” 

“Scottie, as in Dana Scott?”

“Yep, his inability to say three simple words to a girl lost us one of our best, so please, for once in your life, don’t delude yourself into thinking you’re good enough for him. He’s not good enough for you. However…”

Zoe trailed off as the defense finished their closing statement, and Pearson, who had been acting as the judge, hit the gavel one last time. “This trial has come to a close. I hope all of you have learnt something useful instead of mere gossip, Lawford I’m looking at you. Anyways, time to move on to potential tournaments and allocations.” She smiled, and all the students froze. Jessica Pearson had the power to bring down even the best with her smile, and a bunch of teenagers, smart as they were, were dominos in the face of her wrath. 

She started by listing the rookie tournaments, assigning the hopeful first and second years, with a third year as a guide each. Then came some of the more advanced tournaments, and as Jessica continued to hand out case files, the third and fourth years in the front rows started to fidget nervously. 

“Last but not least, we have to announce the lineup for the annual Harvard MOOT tournament. Your performance in this competition highly reflects the school’s position in the national MOOT hierarchy, and we are one year short of a five year grand slam. So, this year, we will be expecting you to work twice as hard, no, five times as hard to make sure we win this thing.”

A small whoop came from the back of the hall, before being cut short by what sounded like someone’s hand on their mouth. Jessica coughed lightly before continuing, her eyebrow arched, and the members let out a breath they didn’t even know they were holding. 

“All members have to pitch in to help review the cases, and I expect all of you to keep everything about our research under lock and key. I’m sure all of have friends from other MOOT heavy schools, but you will not be exposing a single letter of our strategies, or so help me god you will be kicked out with no recommendations and no top twenty school will ever take you in, so say goodbye to your mock trial career. Any questions?”

“Cut to the chase Jessica, we all want to know the lineup.” No one saw who’d said those words, but the moment their dean’s first name was mentioned, there was no suspense regarding the identity of the person talking. 

“Mr Specter, would you refrain from calling me by my first name in public.”

A wave of giggling and hushed whispers swept through the room. “But not in private? Miss Pearson, Miss Pearson, you really didn’t have to announce to all the first years the nature of your relationship with Harvey,” Zoe stage whispered, as the girls around her giggled. 

Unbeknownst to her, a similar conversation was being held in the front row. 

“Is Harvey begging for everyone to think he’s sleeping with Jessica?” Mike whispered under his breath, not loud enough for the third years behind him to eavesdrop, but just loud enough that Donna whipped her head backwards. 

“You mean he’s not sleeping with Jessica?” The redhead feigned shock, sending another ripple of gossip through the crowd. 

“Donna!” Mike buried his head in his lap in exasperation. 

“Harvey would rather they think he’s sleeping with the dean than that he calls her mom, and not in the sexy way,” Donna gave the back of Mike’s head a look, before tutting and turning back to face the stands.  
“Fine. As Mr Specter suggests, I will announce the year’s lineup.” The sounds in the room died down once more in anticipation. 

“Since we won last year, we need not go through the elimination processes again. This year’s final case is a corporate case, the vice head of management of McKernon Motors is accused of leaking blueprints of a future release to their opponents, Velorex. We will be representing the defendant, Mr Stephen Huntley. The opening attorney will be Eton, then Ross, then Specter.”

“That’s not fair! Ross is only a second year!” One of the third years, a red faced boy angrily shouted. Harvey stood up in defense, before Jessica slapped him back down with a quick hand gesture.

“Are you questioning my judgement?”

The boy shook his fist, opened his mouth as if to speak, then as if suddenly realising what the situation had fallen to, mumbled no, then slouched back into his chair with a thump. 

“Good. Zane, you’re up for first witness, a colleague of Mr Huntley. Paulsen, second witness, Mr Huntley’s wife, who was filing for divorce. Watson, you’re last and you’re the defendant. 

“That will be all. I expect all of you in your assigned prep rooms by four tomorrow. Last but not least, I’m sure all of you are well acquainted with the core team by now, Specter is president this year, and he will have jurisdiction over all cases. Court adjourned!” 

Pearson hit the gavel again before retreating into the back of the room. “Don’t wait up,” he said, not even looking back to see whether they’d heard him. “I guess we’ll have to leave without his highness then,” Donna shrugged.

She dragged a reluctant Mike out of the courtroom, to the great amusement of the members loitering in the room, chatting to old friends and trying to make new alliances. For a school team, the mock trial team had an ungodly amount of politics involved. He let her walk him to their dormitories before sitting him down on her bed. 

“I know.”

“Don’t you know everything, Donna?”

“I know you’re in love with him.”


End file.
